


Alpha Omega

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Other: See Story Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ending and a new beginning for Sentinel and Guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha Omega

## Alpha Omega

by Pink Dragon

Not mine. They belong to each other.

Not betaed, all mistakes are mine. Please feed the dragon.

This is a death story, but only after Sentinel and Guide have spent many, many, many years together. Then, it is a new beginning. Two-hanky warning.

* * *

Omega 

Incacha gazed proudly upon the Sentinel and Guide. He had done well with this pairing. The Sentinel had been strong and true, and the Guide had been brave and wise. They had spent many years together, as friends, partners, and lovers, as all Sentinels and Guides were meant to be. 

But now it was time for an ending, and a new beginning, for human bodies wear over time. The Sentinel's senses fade, and the bodies become frail. Now, the Guide was dying. He lay in a big bed, but not in a hospital. There were no tubes, or machines, or pain or fear, for the Guide knew that this was not the end, but the beginning, for Incacha had told him that this was so. 

The bed was in a sun-filled room with windows on three sides, facing east, south and west, so the Guide could look out each day upon the rising sun and the setting sun. The Guide could look out over tall mountains that had snow on their tops in the winter, and white-tailed deer and bighorn sheep, and occasionally, wolves. The room was large and bright, and filled with glasses full of wildflowers that the Sentinel picked for his Guide on their daily outings. 

The Sentinel knew that fresh air and sunshine were good for the Guide, so daily, he lifted the Guide into a wheelchair, wrapped him in warm, hand-made quilts, and they wandered the mountainside over bark-covered trails they had built together during their many years on the mountain. When the Guide became tired, the Sentinel would take him back to the sun-filled room, lay him gently onto the big bed, and lie beside him while he napped. 

In the sun-filled room, there were also potted trees, and vines that trailed around the windows, their leaves turned toward the sun. There was a state-of-the-art stereo system, and stacks and stacks of music disks, a big-screen television with more stacks of movie disks. There was a huge old claw-foot bathtub, large enough for two. 

Every day the Sentinel filled the tub with warm water and lots of bubble bath, and carried the Guide to the tub, undressed him, lowered him into the water and climbed in with him. This was the Guide's favorite part of the day, because the Sentinel would hold him in his strong arms, and bath him gently and wash his hair, playfully dropping bubbles on his face and kissing them away. There was much laughter, and playful splashing, and many soft caresses. When the water became too cool, the Sentinel would lift the Guide out, hold him on his lap and dry him with big fluffy white towels, and comb his long hair that curled to his waist. Then the Guide was carried back to the bed, and placed gently on clean sheets and freshly fluffed pillows. The Sentinel would then massage the Guide with scented lotion, and flex and stretch each arm and leg, so the Guide's muscles would be exercised. Then the Guide would nap again, and the Sentinel would stand guard, as he always had. 

On this Sunday morning, the Sentinel sat in a well-worn chair to the side of the bed. The floor beside him was stacked with books and newspapers and scientific journals, for the Guide's mind had remained sharp, even as his body failed. Beside the chair was a table, holding a reading lamp, a coffee mug, and two pairs of glasses, for both Sentinel and Guide had failing eyesight. 

It was dawn, and the Sentinel had been at the bedside of the Guide through the night, as he always was. But this night had been special, because the Sentinel knew that the Guide's time was near, and therefore, his was also. As the sun rose over the mountain, the Guide's heartbeat slowed. His eyes sought out his Sentinel, and they knew that it was time. The Sentinel climbed into the bed with his beloved Guide, laying his head gently against the Guide's chest. The Guide stroked the short hair of the Sentinel, smiled into his eyes, twined their fingers together, and stopped breathing. 

The Sentinel, with tears streaming down his face, clutched at the Guide, and held him close. The Sentinel did not believe in the Guide's dreams, wherein Incacha came to the Guide and promised him that he would be with his Sentinel forever. 

But the Sentinel truly did believe that when the Guide died, so would the Sentinel. Now, as he gently stroked the face of his beloved, he knew that it was his time, too. So the Sentinel laid his head on the chest of his Guide, and slowed his own heartbeat, slower... slower....slower....... 

^^^^^ 

Alpha 

In two separate homes, in two sunny rooms, on this warm Sunday morning, two couples made love, and two babies were conceived. One baby would grow to be brave and wise, with eyes the color of the sky, and a heart that was pure. His name would be called Jacob. The other baby would grow to be strong and true, with the heart of a warrior and a soul that was gentle. His name would be called Joseph. Their mothers, Ruth and Charity, best of friends all their lives, would raise their sons to be good men. 

Nine months later, when the babies were born, Incacha gazed proudly upon them, and knew again that he had done well with this pairing. 

* * *

End Alpha Omega by Pink Dragon: pinkdragon456@aol.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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